


Cold and... well theres a nightlight

by InkyCreatures



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 01:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17336468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkyCreatures/pseuds/InkyCreatures
Summary: Just a quick "meeting" fic between Jack and Pitch.I say this is a bit before the movie started, while the black sand was still mostly shadow.





	Cold and... well theres a nightlight

The sand crept along the cracks of floorboards, under furniture and most importantly, where they would not be seen. Their likeness winded through the midnight sky, blooming into shapes as they touch upon the shingles of homes.  
A particular tendril slithered through a room of light greens and plush animals. It became more confident in the dimly lit room only shying away from a source of light plugged into the wall. That is when it stopped and a burning pain made its way through the tendril and into its master.

Pitch, boogey man, master of fearlings did not shriek. He most definitely did not release a squeal of a noise when his spine froze from the bottom up. He did, however, turn with a vicious glare to whoever dared to enter his lair uninvited. There was no one. Though, a tendril that crept from the pool of shadow at his feet was coloured wrong. For just a moment, a single moment, the black nothingness had shimmered with a glittering light. Reflecting the little light held in the lair of the boogeyman. Ice.

With a grimace he ran his fingers through the discoloured sand. His mind running as he felt the course material escape his hold. It had not returned to it's golden hue so it was not interference of its original master but he could think of no one else who may be able to disrupt the sands journey. The shade felt the sand retreat before turning to a new target before another blast of shimmering ice ran back towards him.

The spirit once again let a scowl cross his pointed features before following the trail of sands branching into different parts of the world. Mirroring the trails that lit up the nights sky. He allowed himself to be swallowed by the shadows cast by the stream of golden light above. He let his eyes roam as he felt the ground beneath himself become solid.

The room was normal, some candy coloured wallpaper with toys tossed about in wild abandon. A child of eight hid under a light blanket, breath coming out like steam out of a train. The boogeyman's eyes left the child, following the trail of sand to the otherside of the room. His eyes widened as he flattened himself against the shadowed corner, evaluating the spirit.

The spirit floated above the sand it had cornered without the aid of wings. It held a hooked staff,using the blunt end to poke at the tendril of sand. Yet it's face held no maliciousness, only childlike curiousity. Blue eyes that somehow held a fierce biting cold and a warmness he hadn't seen in a few millennium. Then those impossible eyes were turned on him as the sand retreated to its master. 

His face did not act as Pitch thought it should, instead of crunching into an expression of fear or defensiveness he smiled. It was more of a smirk but all the same to someone who hadn't seen such a thing in years. "That yours?" Came an unnervingly deep voice from such a lean figure, pale hands stuffed into the pocket of his coat.


End file.
